


A Cat's Life

by andIJDC



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Unrequited Love, keith is a lonely man, lance's bad flirting, with magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andIJDC/pseuds/andIJDC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lance flirts with the wrong person (again), but unlike past occasions, this time the results are <em>paw</em>sitively awful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Purrlogue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://groansindisgust.tumblr.com/post/122915792331/mythological-creature-aus) post

In Lance’s defense, this was all Hunk’s fault. If Hunk hadn’t begged him to stop at that shady naturalist store on the outskirts of town, Lance wouldn’t be in this predicament right now, locked up behind bars, with a sore ass, and desperately crying for attention.

Yup, Lance thought as his ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching his kennel. It was all Hunk’s (and his very-pregnant wife’s) fault he had been transformed into a cat.

 

 _“Lance, please, bro, I need you to do me a favor, pleeeaase,”_ Hunk’s voice sounded desperately through the speaker of Lance’s cellphone.

Lance smirked knowingly as he strolled down the late afternoon streets on his way home. In the past eight months there had been only one cause behind the constantly panicked tone his best friend’s voice. “Let me guess,” Lance sniggered. “This has to do with _Shay_ , doesn’t it?”

Immediately, Hunk broke into a rant about Shay and how she had called him at work to ask if he would be so kind as to buy her some of her favorite tea on his way home, and it was okay if he didn’t, but she had _really_ been craving some recently, but she didn’t want to bother him, and of course Hunk couldn’t say no, not when she asked him like that, but he didn’t get out of work till 8, and the only store that sold that brand of tea closed at 6 and-

“And you just can’t stand to go home empty-handed and disappoint your precious honey boo,” Lance broke his friend off mid-rant, voice absolutely mocking Hunk at this point.

 _“Dude, if you could buy her tea and just drop it off at the shop I will owe you big time. And I’ll pay you back, I swear,”_ Hunk pleaded.

“Hmm,” Lance tapped his chin and pretended to contemplate his decision even though he had already turned to walk in the direction of the store discussed. “You do know that place is like, in the complete opposite side of town?”

 _“Oh, come on!”_ Hunk practically cried.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Lance laughed at his friend’s expense. “You know I got your back, bro.” Lance could hear Hunk breath in relief. “And don’t worry about paying me back. Just save me one of those strawberry cheesecakes and we’ll call it even.”

The other line went silent for a few seconds, and Lance hurried to cross the street.

_“…I’m asking for $5 box of assorted herbal tea and you want an entire $30 cheesecake in exchange...”_

Lanced shrugged his shoulders as he turned right at the corner. “Sometimes you gotta ask yourself what you’re willing to pay for love.”

 _“You can have a_ slice _.”_

“Deal!” Lance agreed with a grin. “Now what kind of tea was it that you wanted?”

 

Lance checked the cursive lettering on the glass door making sure he was at the right place. He stepped inside, giving the small and empty store a quick glance around in search of the tea section. For such a tiny store, they sure sold a wide assortment of items, he thought as he crept around all the cramped shelves careful not to bump into anything with his long limbs. “When they said ‘natural’ they sure weren’t kidding,” Lance muttered as he inspected piles of dried leaves and other… _things_ lying in one particular display.

“Of course. That’s one of things we pride ourselves in here in The Balmera,” a feminine voice spoke behind him.

Lance jumped in surprise and whirled around to come face to face with a pretty blonde in a crop top, long flowing skirt, and bangles up and down her slender arms. Lance’s smile grew positively wicked, and he immediately straightened to his full height, knowing full well the kind of effect that had. “Why, hello there,” Lance practically purred.

The blonde giggled. “Hello,” she played along with a small smirk. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh, just my heart. I think someone in here just stole it,” Lance said, pretending to search the store before his gaze fell back to the girl’s face.

The blonde giggled again, hiding her mouth behind her hand, and Lance was beside the moon. _Heck, yeah._ She was totally into him. “I’m sorry to hear that,” the girl said with a smile, a playful twinkle in her eyes. “But I don’t think I’ve seen any thieves lurking around this store.”

“No? You sure?” Lance asked, leaning an elbow on top one of the shelves (ignoring the objects he knocked into) and resting his head against his hand. The girl shook her head. “About yay tall. Pretty. Blonde,” Lance listed. Then he lowered his voice and stared purposefully into her eyes. “The most beautiful violet eyes this side of the earth.”

The girl pursed her lips, looking down, then glancing back up, fluttering her long lashes. “She must be real lucky to have gotten a hold of your heart,” she murmured alluringly.

“How ‘bout you and I get out of here, and I’ll show you just how _lucky_ we ca-” Lance choked on his words as piercing pain shot through his back, like a nail being pressed into his spine.

“Rolo! What are you doing?” the girl gasped.

A burning hot sensation started from that point and spread like vines over Lance's entire body. Lance fell to his hands and knees in front of the girl as he gasped for breath, trying to understand what was happening around him. He clutched at his shirt desperately, trying helplessly to claw its suffocating weight off as vision began to blur.

“Dammit, Nyma. I leave you alone to run the store for five minutes - _five minutes_ and you jump the first guy you see.”

Lance’s head fell to the floor, cheek pressed against the cool tile floors as his eyes searched for the owner of the new masculine voice. He saw a pair of boots step up next to his face but he couldn’t find enough strength in him to turn his face to see their owner’s face. He cried out in anguish when the burning vines began to constrict his body.

The girl scoffed, and her skirt ruffled around her. “Oh, please, Rolo. You know I would never cheat on you. Not with someone like him.” Even through pain-induced haze, Lance still had the presence of mind to feel indignation at the comment, though he couldn’t find his voice to shout it out. “It was just some harmless flirting.”

“That’s what you say _all the time_.”

“And I mean it. _All the time_ ,” the girl said in exasperation. “You know I would never betray you like that. We’ve been through too much together.”

Finally, the unbearable heat started to lessen to a comfortable warmth, and Lance felt like he could breathe again. He puffed heavily as he attempted to catch his breath, and blinked his eyes quickly to clear his vision. He tried to sit up, but his limbs still felt weird - weak and short, like they weren't his own.

The man sighed. “You’re right. I just… overreacted.”

“ _Again_.”

The man laughed lightheartedly. “What can I say? You make me crazy.”

The girl giggled, and Lance tried not to think about the stupid noises they were making at each other above him. _Yeah, sure, don't mind me nearly_ dying _here,_ he thought angrily. He tried to stand up again, but when he did, he just fell back down to all fours. He glanced down at himself and blinked in confusion. _What the…_

“So what are we gonna do with this guy now?” the man asked, and before Lance could finish processing what was going on, he felt two hands - _two really large hands_ \- wrap around his stomach. Next thing he knew, he was being lifted straight up into the air and was being cradled in the arms of the blonde girl with the pretty eyes.

Holy shit. She looked _way_ bigger than what Lance remembered.

“I actually think he looks cuter now than he did before,” the girl reached a hand down and scratched Lance behind his ears. He tried to push away from her as hard as he could with his hands.

 _Oh my god._ This wasn’t happening. _This wasn’t happening._ Lance lifted his hands – _his paws_ – up to his face and stared in terror.

“He still looks pretty mangy to me,” the man pulled Lance out of the girl’s arms by the scruff of his neck and turned a still shell-shocked Lance to finally look at him.

“Why a cat?” the girl asked also inspecting Lance like he was a curiosity. “Last guy you at least turned him into something we could sell.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t know. Just the first spell that came to mind…” He seemed to pause in contemplation. “Do you want to keep him?” he asked turning to look at the girl.

 _Oh hell no._ At those words, Lance’s survival instincts finally kicked in. With a wail, (oh god, did that sound really come out of _his_ mouth?) he lashed his claws out at the man’s face who immediately dropped Lance as he clutched at his face.

“Son of a bitch!”

Lance fell to the floor with a thud, and he didn’t even take the time to be amazed at the fact that he actually landed on all four before he dashed madly towards the door, his claws scraping against the floor as he made a run for it. However, when the glass door came into view, Lance’s heart nearly fell out of his chest in fear. But then, as if God had been looking out for him, the door was pushed open, the little chimes signaling another customer’s entrance, and Lance barely managed to avoid crashing into the pair of feet, weaving around and flying through the door before it shut on his tail.

He let his momentum carry him onto the streets, and he quickly scrambled back onto the sidewalk as a car drove past. _Santa madre de Dios!!_ His heart was thudding dangerously in his chest, and Lance wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting away from the psychos in that store as he ran as far as his new kitty feet could carry him.


	2. Opurration Get Adopted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buttholes are penetrated in the name of health and safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to stick with writing short chapters since past history shows I can't do long chapters without loosing focus and motivation.

Lance had never felt more violated in his entire life.

After his brilliant escape, he’d gone into a panic trying to rationalize everything he’d just experienced without success. He had even knocked his head against a hydrant several times in an attempt to wake up from what he had hoped to had been an oddly realistic nightmare. When the only thing he had managed to do was gain a headache, Lance had decided he needed a plan.

Well, first he had panicked some more - and probably frightened a few pedestrians with his crazy cat wailing - but _then_ he devised his plan.

If he could just recognize any kind of landmark (he hadn't exactly been paying attention to where he was going in his desperation), he could start trying to make his way to Hunk and Shay’s house. Then he could just use Hunk’s bleeding heart and his innocent kitty eyes to his advantage to worm his way into their home. After all, there was no way Hunk would be able to ignore a starving cat if it showed up on his doorstep. Once inside, he’d find a way to get a message to them. He’d spell out a message in his litter box if he had to. After that… he still hadn’t worked out the details, but by then Hunk would be helping to figure out a way to change him back. A way that hopefully did not involve going back to _those people_.

It was a perfectly reasonable plan. Lance just hadn’t predicted that after several fruitless hours traversing the city with his disoriented sense of direction, his own empty stomach would betray him and lead him into a hidden cat trap set by the city animal shelter. Damned Fancy Feast. Lance spent the entire night meowing and cursing his rotten luck. Nothing seemed to be going his way.

His luck continued into the morning when he was picked up by shelter workers and transported to animal hell.

Lance was quickly shoved into his crate, the small metallic door slamming shut behind him as he hissed at the vet one more time for good measure before curling up in the back hiding his head in shame as the vet discarded two needles and cleaned up The Thermometer.

“He’s beautiful, but he sure is a feisty,” the doctor told the shelter worker with a relieved chuckled at having managed to survive that confrontation

“Yeah,” the worker sighed in disappointment. “I still can’t decide if I want to keep him and see if his temperament improves for adoption or just go ahead and release him as soon as he’s neutered.”

Lance jerked his head up so fast he knocked it against the roof of his crate. _Neutered?_   _NEUTERED?!_   _Oh, hell no!_ Lance ran up to the front of the crate and tried to desperately communicate with the doctor. _No, no, no! You can’t neuter me! I’m human! Those parts are still essential to me! What the hell kind of torture chamber is this?!_

The two jerks just laughed at Lance’s frantic meowing. “Well, just let me know what you decide when you bring him in next Wednesday with the rest of your animals, that way I can go ahead and notch his ear if you plan on releasing him,” the doctor said.

Lance swayed, suddenly feeling queasy. _Wednesday. I have till Wednesday to make my escape,_ Lance thought in dread.

When they took him back to the shelter and placed him in a kennel, Lance felt like a prisoner counting down the days until his execution. Tuesday arrived much quicker than he had expected.

Lance stared blankly at his food bowl. Could this be his last meal as a real man? ...As a real man-cat? Lance quickly shook his head.

 _Ok, ok,_  he thought as he paced back and forth in his kennel, trying to block all the other animals’ annoying yapping. So being an ass and trying to bite and scratch his way out of here was not going to happen. Clearly, these people had way too much experience dealing with asshole cats to manage a successful jailbreak. _So…_ Lance desperately wracked his brain for ideas.

Just then his ears perked up when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching his kennel. He pressed his face against the metallic rods of the door listening out for what the voices were saying.

“…lar you're looking for?”

“Just something low maintenance really. And small.”

 _Of course!_ Shelters adopted out animals! The worker had said Lance still had a chance of being adopted! And they did say he was beautiful, not that that was much of a surprise. Of course he’d be handsome in any form he took.

Immediately Lance straightened out his back and sat in front of the kennel in what he imagined was an exemplary cat pose. He meowed charmingly as the footsteps neared. They stopped somewhere still out of sight probably looking at other animals, and Lance cleared his throat and meowed a little louder.

“If you’re looking for something low maintenance than I’d suggest going for something older. Or fish. Kittens and puppies can be a handful and require time and training.”

“Hm.” One pair of footsteps continued walking and the other followed after.

Lance felt his little cat heart pound in his body as a male's chest paused in front of his kennel. Then, Lance's breath hitched in his throat, they bent down, and a man with messy black hair peered into Lance’s kennel. Lance wasted no time and began strutting around in his kennel, trying to show off his best sides.

 _Yeah, that’s right. Look at this glorious fur,_ he meowed demurely turning left then turning right. _Fucking dainty, low-maintenance cat right here._

“Oh,” the shelter worked peered down as well, inspecting Lance’s parade with mirth. “We actually just picked this one up just a few days ago.” He laughed. “Cat must be bipolar, I swear. He wasn’t nearly this… _happy_ when we picked him up, to put it lightly.”

The other man smirked at Lance. “He sounds and looks like an idiot,” he said quietly.

Lance stopped in his tracks, jerking his head toward the door. _Excuse you?!_ _I’m here being a perfect angel and you insult me like this, asshole!_ He flew at the door but the man quickly retracted his face just before Lance could get at him. _Get back here, you jerk!_ _I’m gonna wreck that stupid face of yours!_ Lance stuck his paws through the bars, claws extended, trying to snag the man’s ugly red jacket.

“Now that’s more like the cat we first found,” the worker said in amusement. “He’s been vaccinated already but he has yet to be fixed.”

“Good. I’ll take him.”

“What?”

_What?_

Both Lance and the shelter worker stared at the man in confusion.

“He hasn’t been neutered. That means he’s be cheaper, right?” the man explained easily.

 _Dude, you make me sound like a prostitute when you say it like that_ , Lance thought, head still reeling at the prospect that he was actually going to get adopted so soon. Already, he was looking at the man in a new light. His savior. His penny-pinching savior.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” the worker started. “But we always recommend you get your pets fixed unless you plan on breeding them.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll take this dumbass as is.”

The worker laughed, and Lance made another angry swipe for the guy’s jacket. “Alright. I’m not gonna stand between a man and his cat,” the worker said.

The man with mullet stared at Lance with his dark eyes as he spoke, and Lance sensed a sort of sadness or longing hidden within their depths. Then he blinked and it was if Lance had imagined it. “I guess I can’t keep calling you dumbass forever. How ‘bout… uh… Blue?”

Lance would have face-palmed if he could.  _You’re the real dumbass,_ Lance meowed.

The man smiled, (and shit, Lance totally didn’t find that cute) and he stuck a finger in the kennel to try and pet Lance. “Blue it is.” Lance bit his finger.

Papers signed, money exchanged, and a short car ride later, Lance found himself released into a small apartment living room. 'Cluttered' was the first word that came to mind. It looked more like a workshop than a living space with all the mechanical parts lying around, not to mention the mountain of books cluttering what Lance could only assume was a table underneath and part of the sofa. Lance didn’t even have to look inside all those carryout boxes and bags to know there was probably day-old scraps in all of them.

“Yeah, it’s a bit messy. But it’s home,” the man, Keith, said warmly looking down at Lance who just stared up at him blankly. Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance's unblinking gaze. “Hey don’t judge me. This is your home now too.”

 _Not for long_ , Lance thought as he stepped cautiously around the room. Keith just watched Lance as he inspected his new living area before he stepped into another room.

As soon as Keith was out of sight, Lance scrambled to the nearest windowsill. _Closed!_ Lance leapt down and zeroed in on an open door, running towards it. Nope. Bathroom. Lance ran out then into the next room across the hall. He spotted a window inside and ran towards it as well. _Dammit!_ It was closed too! Lance turned and ran back out into the narrow hallway. He looked around for any other rooms seeing only the open doorway Keith had stepped into. He ran there, his last hope, and inevitably slammed into Keith’s ankles.

“ _Fuckin_ -” Two bowls clattered loudly onto the floor, spraying Lance with water and dry cat food. “You little shit, look what you did!” Keith shouted in exasperation as he moved around what Lance now saw was the kitchen to get a broom.

 _It’s not my fault you weren’t watching where you were going!_ Lance meowed angrily, shaking his wet fur purposefully near Keith then walking away haughtily, tail in the air. If he had turned around, Lance would have seen the absolutely baffled expression on the bastard’s face.

“Damn psychotic cat,” Keith grumbled under his breath. Lance smirked triumphantly as he walked back into the living room.

Standing in the middle of the room with no escape, however, everything suddenly seemed to tower over Lance. The four walls surrounding him felt even more overbearing than the kennel had been, and it struck Lance just how small and helpless he was in this stranger's house. The words he had been trying not to think about crept into his head.

What if he was stuck like this forever?

“Hey, uh… Blue.” Lance wearily turned his head to look at Keith who was crouched by the kitchen doorway with a bowl in his hand. He had a constipated look on his face, his eyebrows scrunched up and lips pursed together as he stared down at Lance. Keith cleared his throat and started speaking in an awkward, high-pitched tone. “Come here, Blue. Come here, kitty kit – I can’t do this. Just get over here and eat your food.”

Lance moaned and hid his head under his paws. And worse yet, he was stuck with this idiot as his new owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't mentioned but Lance is supposed to be a Russian blue cat. Hence Keith's oh so creative name.


	3. Picture Purrfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don’t judge me" is Keith’s new catch phrase.

There were a couple things Lance had learned in the few hours he had been trapped inside Keith’s apartment.

One: it was a lot harder to aim while using a litter box than he was expecting. (Keith promptly moved the litter box from the kitchen to the bathroom as soon as he experience soggy pee socks.)

Two: Keith did not particularly like having messages scratched into his furniture. At all. He resembled an animal more than Lance did with the way he practically tackled Lance who was mid “H” on the sofa. Not cool dude.

Three: besides eating and shitting and sleeping, there wasn’t much else for a cat to do as far as Lance knew. Maybe grooming? He could actually lick his own balls now – _not that he would do it..._  but he totally could.

And four: despite recent events – _very_ recent events, one event in particular that led to Lance’s current residence – Keith was actually not much of a cat person.

The only times Keith even seemed to remember Lance was in his house was when he’d hear the inevitable sound of claws digging into something of value, and Keith would storm into the room yelling, “Dammit Blue!” “BLUE!!”  “Ahh! I’m gonna kill you Blue!” (and other variations) as he yanked Lance up by the scruff of his neck, away from whatever he had his claws in (curtains, sofas, shower curtains, shirts he found lying around), toss Lance aside, then continue with whatever he was doing.

Keith hadn’t seemed like the cuddliest person to start with, but Lance had been at least expecting some toys or the occasional pat or some candid photos – _literally any kind of interaction._ Like, he did not get adopted just to be ignored.

After his latest thwarted attempt at written communication (which were becoming more like cries for attention), it seemed both Lance and Keith were fed up with the constant battle. After dumping Lance in the living room, Keith just flopped onto his couch and let his head roll back to stare at his ceiling. Lance sprawled himself out on the floor with his belly up, feet spread as he contemplated what his next step should be.

After several silent minutes, in which Lance had managed zero new plans and instead wrote out the first chapter of his memoir entitled _How It All Went to the ~~Dogs~~ Cats _ in his head, Keith stood up, took a few steps then paused to glare down at Lance.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he practically growled, pointing a finger down at him, before walking away.

 _Don’t do anything stupid_ , Lance mimicked Keith in his head in aggravation. He lifted his paw up to flick him off, but seeing as that was impossible now, he resorted to making angry slashing motions with his claws behind Keith’s back. _Your face is stupid,_ he huffed petulantly. Moments later, Lance heard a door shutting then the distinctive sound of a shower running soon after, and Lance was hit with a desperate need for a hot bath. _After these hellish days, I deserve it,_ Lance groaned from the floor.

He closed his eyes and thought back to his own little apartment with it's creaky door hinges, and windows that wouldn't open. It was just as small as this one but much more homey, filled with memories he'd collected over the years. And his bathroom – his sanctuary - with the large white tub that he had gotten into one morning and scrubbed till it shone, and his small collection of scented candles that would fill the air with a soothing aroma and just relax him even more as he dipped his body into warm, sometimes scalding hot, bubbly water till it came up to his shoulders, all his aches and pains just melting away, and those days he splurged on luxurious bath salts were just  _divine_...

Lance was jerked out of his daydreaming when he heard the sound of the water being shut off. _Already?_ Clearly Keith didn’t have the same appreciation for long showers like Lance did.

Lance rolled up from his position on the floor and went to wait in front of the bathroom door, tail twitching back and forth in excitement. Maybe if he tried he could make his own hot water bath in the sink. It couldn’t be too hard to turn knobs with paws, could it? He’d just have to do without the candles and bath salts and bubbles since there was no way someone as uncivilized as Keith owned any.

The door finally opened, and Lance choked back his breath, all thoughts careening into a screeching halt.

Lance looked up, starting from the hairy shins in front of him, up to the small white towel hanging on thin hips, to glistening abs and pecs, to still dripping wet hair.

 _Holy…_ Lance let out a shaky mewl as his brain tried to start itself back up, and Keith looked down at him. Keith smirked and – Lance screamed in silence – actually shook his hair out like a damn cat, purposefully trying to get Lance wet with the excess water. (Not that Lance’s brain was even registering anything, too busy replaying the hair shake in slow motion.)

Lance nearly died when Keith just stepped over him, Lance's eyes following that tiny white towel, and made his way into his bedroom. _Ohmygod._ _He didn't_ _see anything. He didn't see anything-_

When Keith came out of the bedroom, fully dressed, _thank God,_ (or not - Lance couldn’t decide), Lance was still frozen in front of the open bathroom door. Keith simply scooped him up and carried him into the bedroom. It wasn’t until the flash of a camera going off nearly blinded Lance, that he finally snapped out of his trance.

He blinked the stars out of his eyes and glanced up at Keith who sat crossed legged in the middle of the bed, staring with scrunched up eyebrows and pursed lips at his phone. He looked up at Lance who sat by his feet, and turned his phone so Lance could look at the photo on the screen.

“What do you think?”

Lance scrunched up his nose in disgust. _What the hell, man?_ _I look like one of those creepy stuffed animals_ , he thought. _Delete it,_ he meowed as he tried to press the delete icon on the phone himself.

“Stop it,” Keith ordered, pushing Lance away and pulling his phone out of reach. “Just – _will you_ – This is not a toy! Just hold still so I can take another picture,” Keith grumbled exasperated as he tried to keep Lance from climbing his arm to get to the phone.

Lance harrumphed. _You could have just asked_ , he thought as he immediately sat back down on all fours and turned his body to the perfect angle then flicked his fiercest gaze to the camera.  _Rawr._

When Keith just sat there staring in wonder at him, Lance meowed at him to hurry up. Keith blinked stupidly and fumbled to snap the picture. Immediately, Lance switched poses and laid down on his back and stared up at the camera with wide, innocent eyes.

“Cute,” Keith mumbled, turning his phone to get better angles.

 _Oh, oh, oh! This one is a classic!_ Lance got up on his haunches and lifted up his right paw and curled it. _Nya!_

“Oh my god, you’re unreal,” Keith whispered in awe as he continued to snap photos with every pose Lance struck. “I… I think we have enough.”

 _Let me see!_ Lance wiggled his way underneath Keith’s arm to look at his phone. _I am one seriously good looking cat,_ he thought smugly as Keith swiped through all the pictures. Lance snorted to himself. _I guess one could even say I’m_ purr _fect!_

Keith shoved Lance’s head out of the way _(rude)_ , and started tapping away at his phone. There was a little sound of a message being sent. Then Keith put his phone on the bed between his legs and stared at it with such intense focus. It was such a signature look that Lance could recognize anywhere. The waiting-for-crush-to-text-back look.

 _Oh, you poor boy,_ Lance shook his head, placing a pitying paw on Keith’s knee. Keith glanced at him, then glanced back at the phone, then to Lance again.

 _“Don’t judge me_ ,” Keith hissed. He uncrossed his legs and picked up Lance, carrying him to a corner in the room where he dropped Lance unceremoniously on a fluffy cat bed. “Sleep,” he ordered in what Lance guessed was supposed to be an intimidating tone. Just then, Keith’s phone chimed and Keith practically ran back to his bed, diving for the phone.

Lance was rolling in his bed from laughter. _Oh my God, you’ve got it bad!_

Lance had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. _Oh man, I needed that._ He got up from the cat bed and pranced towards Keith’s bed, leaping back on it. _Like hell I’m sleeping on the floor_ , he thought. Fortunately, Keith was still distracted looking at his phone, so he made no attempt at removing Lance from his new bed. As Lance curled up at the foot of the bed, he took one last peak at Keith whose face was illuminated by the light of his phone, eyes hooded and a small smile on his face as he texted his mysterious crush.

Lance couldn’t help but smile as well at the innocent sight as he closed his eyes for sleep to take him away to dreamland.

That night, Lance dreamt of gentle smiles and glistening muscles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was even shorter than the last, but I have to post something before I fall back to old habits.


	4. Nine Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance and Keith adjust to living with each other. Or Keith’s daily schedule (and how Lance ruins everything now). Lance nearly dies a few times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m struggling to stick to the plan where there’s actual plot and not just write shit drabbles about cat-Lance being an asshole to worst-pet-owner Keith. Renaming it My Worst Enemy is My Cat or Dumb Shit Owner Does ~~(not really)~~.  
>  Winks and finger guns to fantasticAbstraction and The_Good_Witch_of_Babble for inspiring two of these.

**Sleeping**

Lance was jerked awake when something poked him roughly on the side. He blinked his bleary eyes at the foot next to him and scowled before scooting away a couple inches and closing his eyes. Not even a few seconds later, just as Lance was drifting off again, the same foot jerked out all of a sudden against him, and Lance had to quickly scramble to keep hold of the bed sheets before he was completely shoved off the edge of the bed, Mufasa-style.

He pulled himself up, heart pounding rapidly in his chest at the near death experience. Lance looked up to Keith’s face, who was still soundly sleeping, and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Lance made his way higher up on the bed, eyeing Keith’s long legs warily for any sudden movements. Once past that danger, he curled up on a decent spot on the bed near the middle and tried once again to fall asleep. 

If only Keith hadn’t decided that moment to roll over and nearly kill Lance with his body weight. Lance let out a yelp as he was squashed and flailed his limbs in distress before he managed to pull himself free. He didn't even have time to catch his breath before a heavy hand flopped on top of his head, smacking Lance into the mattress.

_That’s it! You’re dead, pretty boy!_

Lance didn’t even think before he leapt onto Keith’s face with a furious battle cry and every intention to suffocate the sleeping man to death, reminiscent to Alien’s facehugger.

Next thing Lance knew, he was flying through the air (crying the entire way up) as Keith sat up with a jolt, managing to throw Lance off his face. Keith spluttered as he spat out cat hair while Lance landed with a loud thump on the bed.

Keith eyes quickly scanned the dark room before finally landing on a ruffled Lance on the corner of his bed.

 _Come at me, bro_ , Lance hissed, raising his arms in a ‘bring it’ gesture, making sure to extend his claws out in warning. _I’m armed and not afraid to use them._

"The hell?" Keith rubbed his eyes incredulously, blinked several times, then shook his head. “I’m not awake enough to deal with this shit,” he grumbled before dropping his head back onto his pillow, laying an arm across his eyes.

Lance smirked in victory, lowering his paws. _Thought so. Coward._

Lance let out a surprised meow when Keith shoved him off the bed with his foot.

“And stay off.”

 

**Bathroom Schedules**

When Keith woke up, he found Blue curled up not in the cat bed he bought him, but on his bed, _again_ , right next to his pillow. Keith felt his eye twitch in annoyance as he surveyed the grey cat hair all over his white sheets. Keith climbed out of bed and, without a twinge of remorse, yanked the sheets right from under Blue. He smirked as Blue let out a startled screech and went tumbling off the bed.

Keith tossed the covers back on the bed and made his way to the bathroom without a second glance back. Leaving the bathroom door open, Keith tied his hair back, brushed his teeth, and took his morning leak. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was confused to see Blue merely standing to one side of the doorway, as if waiting on him. Once Keith was out of the way though, Blue stepped around his legs and entered the bathroom.

Keith watched him in curiosity as Blue stepped into his litter box and began circling. However, when Blue made eye contact with Keith, he bared his fangs and hissed at him.

“Sorry,” Keith muttered as he quickly looked away and walked down the hall towards the living room. He stopped in front of the couch.

_Wait, why did I say sorry?_

 

**Morning Work Outs**

When Lance stepped out of the bathroom, he had to stop in his tracks as he surveyed the scene before him in the living room. Keith had his legs apart, one stretched out in front of the other, and was moving his torso up and down.

Lance deadpanned.  _Of course Pretty Boy has a morning workout._ _Of freaking course,_ Lance scoffed. _Show off._

“Hey. No hair balls in the kitchen,” Keith called behind him.

 _Oh yeah? I’ll leave my hairy balls on your face!_ Lance meowed angrily, turning his head just so he could purposefully scoff again in Keith’s direction, who was now doing some weird movement with his knees. When Keith ignored him, Lance continued into the tiny kitchen. He stopped, stared at his empty food and water bowl, then did a 180 and marched right back into the living room, ready to give Keith a piece of his mind. _What kind of irresponsible mullet-brained emo-_

Lance was so distracted by the perky glutes in black shorts raised in the air and staring him in the face that he almost forgot his mission. Almost.

Keith was holding himself in a push-up position, crossing one knee at a time underneath him towards the opposite elbow. Lance walked around Keith’s legs and came right up to his face.

 _Look pal, I don’t know why you got a cat if you’re not even going to take care of it properly, but if you’re going to wake me up at ass-o-clock in the morning -_  rudely _, I might add -_ _then you better at least have my damn breakfast ready,_ Lance meowed incessantly.

Keith stared blankly down at Lance, continuing his exercise, then Keith sat down and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head and using his feet to prop his knees up.

 _Hey! Don’t ignore me!_ Lance hopped around so he was by Keith’s side. Keith raised his legs and arms up at the same time to meet above his stomach then lowered them slowly. Lance jumped onto Keith’s stomach who only let out a huff of breath. _Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you realize who you’re messing with,_ Lance harrumphed. When Keith raised his arms again, he grabbed Lance in one hand and then swung him up and over then simply dropped him above the floor, still in sync with his workout.

Lance’s eyebrow ticked in growing aggravation when Keith continued to ignore him. Lance hopped over to Keith’s legs this time and waited for them to lower before jumping on Keith’s shins.

This turned out to be terribly bad idea.

It was a bad idea because Lance didn’t really weigh much, so Keith wasn’t hindered at all in raising his legs straight up into the air. And since gravity still worked on small objects, Lance immediately began to slide down Keith’s hairy legs with nothing to grip.

It was a terrible idea on Keith’s part _because_ Lance had nothing to grip. Therefore, when Lance felt himself start to slide, his first panicked instinct was to dig his claws into flesh to keep from sliding.

Keith yelled in pain, slamming his legs down, and sitting up, his eyes blazing with a thirst for blood.

Lance wasted no time in scrambling off Keith’s legs and running for his life with Keith right behind him.

**Breakfast**

Lance poked his head out from underneath the sofa to check and see if the coast was clear. Seeing no one, Lance figured it was safe to come out.

He cautiously made his way to the kitchen again. Thankfully Keith was apparently forgiving enough to still fill his food bowl.

Although Lance was glad that the change in body had also included a change in taste buds, meaning he wasn’t nearly as disgusted by the idea of eating cat food, he was still able to tell when he was being served shitty quality food. The _shelter_ had had better food.

_Cheap ass bastard._

Lance waited around the kitchen ignoring his food, deciding to wait for Keith instead to prepare something for breakfast that Lance could possibly steal from his plate.

A few minutes later, Keith came in dressed in a uniform, rummaged around his cabinets for a second, pulled out a granola bar, then walked right back out.

Lance watched his retreating back then glanced back at his food bowl. _This is going to get old fast,_ Lance whined as he began eating.

 

**Deliveries**

Usually, Keith tried to pick up food on his way home from work. But on days like today, when they were backed up with so many cars in the shop thanks to the owner’s overconfidence and everybody therefore having to work twice as hard causing nerves to be more on edge than usual, Keith couldn’t even think about having to deal with any more people than necessary.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he turned a street corner and dialed the number for one of the nearby pizzerias. He already had it timed so that by the time he got home the delivery boy would already be climbing up the steps of his apartment complex.

When Keith was in front of his door, he took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the destruction that he would surely find in his once peaceful home. Why had he thought getting a cat was a good idea? Immediately, a little voice in the back of his head reminded him of  _exactly_ why he got a cat. Gritting his teeth, Keith stuck the key in the lock and turned the knob.

Keith didn’t even get a good look at the condition of his living room before he saw a gray blur zip right past between his legs.

“ _Shit!_ ” Keith yelled, dropping his keys and sprinting down the hall after Blue. _Shit shit shit!_ Keith pushed past his tiredness as they neared the stairs and with a last burst of effort, he leapt forward and pounced on Blue. His momentum kept them rolling forward on the concrete floor until they hit the stairwell banister, and Blue cried out from within the confines of Keith's arms.

When the delivery boy came up the stairs, he stared questioningly at Keith who was sitting on the floor battling a very distressed cat in his arms.

“Uh… That’ll be $7.35.”

 

**Wound Care?**

Keith glared at Blue in the reflection of his bathroom mirror as he rinsed the scratches on his arms in the sink. Blue, who had poked his head in the doorway, quickly scurried away when he noticed the pair of eyes trying to burn a hole into him. Keith turned off the tap water and inspected his arms. He was going to have to start buying more band-aids if this was going to become a routine.

Keith sighed heavily. He had a feeling it was.

 

**And Repeat**

Lanced waited patiently on his lumpy cat bed, eyes glued onto the Keith-shaped lump stretched out on the small bed in the dark, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike its prey. When Lance noticed the rise and fall of Keith’s chest had slowed down, he stood up with a determined glint in his eyes. Lance crawled out of his own bed and tiptoed his way to Keith’s. He jumped up onto it light as a feather and paused to check if Keith had woken up. Then he inched ever so slowly towards Keith’s face.

Lance lips curled up mischievously as he watched Keith’s peaceful sleeping face. He turned his body so his butt was facing Keith, tail lifted up, and waited. There was a barely noticeable whisper of gas escaping.

It didn’t take long for Keith’s nose to start twitching, and then for Keith to gasp and sit upright, holding a hand to his nose.

“BLUE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a million excuses as to why it took me so long to update, but most of them center around one: I’m a lazy fuck.


End file.
